


Warm Heart

by Ebookmuncher3150



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Depressing, Depression, Heartbreak, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:18:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebookmuncher3150/pseuds/Ebookmuncher3150
Summary: When did I become like this?When did I become a broken reflection of a former me, something cracked and bent and twisted into a being unlike who I was? Who I was meant to be.When did she become me?





	Warm Heart

When did I become like this?

When did I become a broken reflection of a former me, something cracked and bent and twisted into a being unlike who I was? Who I was meant to be.

When did she become me?

Oh, how the younger me shone like the sun; exuberant and warm and bright! She bounced from one person to another, an endless chatter filling others with a sense of contentment. Reaching out with rays of sunlight to caress and touch and fill the nooks and crannies and cracks that made up others. Hopeful and determined to bring love and joy to the world, especially to those who desperately needed it.

She enjoyed the attention, the praise and the happiness that enveloped her every day. Sure, she didn’t mind passing off the gaze of others to someone else; she would sigh in relaxation when taking a break, but was always ready to pop right back into throng of beings that craved her kindness. To have it solely focused on them. The amount of energy she could expend on others was never-ending and always just the right amount.

How can one so full of warmth and strength and energy and life be changed? Surely it is impossible; nothing can harm a being so great and full of innocence. Surely no one would dare bring pain and sorrow to being so young…. So small and fragile.

How wrong we are.

Perhaps it started when she first encountered the harshness of the world outside her own. When words went from ignorant, unknowingly given little pinpricks of hurt to a crooked knife, intended to bring pain upon the recipient while the wielder watches in sick fascination as the innocent lose their light as they bleed upon the floor. It starts off with little slices, like a papercut; a simple “you’re too sensitive,” a blunt “I don’t want to play with you.” It eventually grew to become harsher, more subtle attacks. Not feeling any pain until you are bleeding out on the floor, watching their back grow small as their satisfaction grows. 

Whispered barbs brush against her back as she struggles to solve a problem on the board.

False concern bites sharply into her shoulders as they list out her failures.

A strong, sturdy base of encouragement sitting soundly beneath her feet is ripped out from under her and she falls, down, down, and her legs break.

Comfort and loyalty rest against her back before sharp and ragged pain is ripped through her lungs as trust is lost and she’s been taken advantage of, purposefully and unintentionally.

Hands caress hers, lightly drag themselves against her face, filling her with adoration and dreams and a pleasant flush before drifting to her heart and tearing it out. Taking a little piece of it before dropping it on the floor, dripping heartbreak. 

All leaving her broken on the ground, clutching at her body and mind to keep herself together. Weeping and shuddering and frantically wondering, What did I do wrong? How did I fail? Why have you abandoned me… Is something wrong with me…. 

Every time, she sews herself back together, stitches becoming more and more uneven with each patch and rip. Every time, she stands up again, shakier and more unsure, carefully placing a smile on her face and forcing a pleasant air about her. Every time, her steps grow more hesitant and testing, always testing, to see if the ground will be torn from under her again, to see if she will break again, and how much farther she’ll fall this time. 

Wild body goes still, bright eyes become dull. A loud mind screeches to be heard but words are trapped in a throat clogged with anxiety and fear. 

A warm heart struggles to melt an icy, hardened exterior.

She has become me.

 

 

I wish I hadn’t changed.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first work (of anything) on AO3, I hope you enjoyed it (and made you cry? maybe?).
> 
> Reviews are always welcome, as well as constructive criticism. I didn't have anyone read over this beforehand so if there are any mistakes they are entirely my own and I will try to fix it. 
> 
> Have a good day!


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